


Bad Guy

by icvrus



Category: Soul Eater, Soul Eater Not!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Evil, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anime/Manga Fusion, Based on a Billie Eilish Song, Boys In Love, Canon - Manga, Dark Character, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, LMAO, M/M, Minor Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans, Nonbinary Crona (Soul Eater), Quarantine really got me bored, Sexual Content, Shinigami, Slow Burn, This is an evil death the kid au, kind of, kind of too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24594685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icvrus/pseuds/icvrus
Summary: They forget he is half god before half boy. They forget he is made of ichor before iron. They forget he is a child of madness before a child of balance.As much as he hates to admit it, Kid can’t do this. He can’t handle his father’s job, he can’t handle the school or seven billion lives, he can’t even handle himself. He can’t handle the realization that Asura was the first born son; look at how he turned out, after all. What’s to say that this newfound power won’t turn Kid out to be like that?And then there’s the trauma, the damn trauma of everything that happened. Of Noah, his father, the madness, and the wars. The boy god hides it well, but even his newly branded death scythe can see something is wrong with the meister.But will Soul and everyone else be fully blind to it all until it’s too late?
Relationships: Black Star & Soul Eater Evans, Black Star/Nakatsukasa Tsubaki, Death the Kid/Soul Eater Evans, Maka Albarn & Crona, Maka Albarn & Soul Eater Evans, Maka Albarn/Crona
Comments: 23
Kudos: 75





	1. Partners

They _forget he is half empty before half full._

* * *

  
_‘Please,’_ the message began. ‘ _You don’t understand how boring it is here.’_

Kid bristled, letting a tuft of his inky striped locks cover his view of the phone. He propped his palm against the skull shaped table before him, pressing his weight down as he sighed. The boy god’s slender fingers tapped away at the glass screen of his device, nimble and paler than freshly packed snow.   
  


‘ _No. You can stay in class and listen to the lectures.’_

_’Kid, I’m begging you, this shit’s so boring.’_

_’That’s unfortunate.’  
  
_

_’Kid, please, I’ll do anything to get outta here.’_

There was something brief that tightened behind Kid’s sternum, but he simply brushed it aside like he did the mountain of papers strewn across his desk. _‘I don’t think you’d enjoy_ _helping me file assignments for the remedial students.’_

_’I don’t know, I think it’d be better than Stein’s boring ass lessons. Plus I’ve been in remedial before, it’ll be cool to see what other kids are doing.’_

Kid scoffed aloud. _‘You’d just be a nuisance, and you speak of remedial lessons like you’re proud to have taken them.’_

_‘Whad’ya want, Kid? I’ll give you whatever you want, I told you I’d do anything to get outta here.’_

Kid thoughtfully stared down at his phone. The boy god traced the edges of the rectangular screen, patient yet impish as he waited for Soul to continue. He didn’t need to say a word— Soul already knew what the meister wanted.   
  


_‘How about we go out later, ok? I’ll pay for whatever you want and we can go wherever you want to.’_

A moment later Kid could hear the monotonous announcer over the PA, his breath momentarily hitching at the mention of his death scythe’s name. Something about having company, especially company like Soul was both relaxing yet exciting to Kid. He wondered if it were simply the desire for companionship, or if it were something more.

Perhaps it was both.

A pair of sneakers, the kind that were worn and a little squeaky, could be heard making a beeline to the circular platform elevated within the Death room. Soul slung a hefty textbook onto the table, wincing at the flood of papers that cascaded down from the impact. He could hear Kid’s sigh from behind a gargantuas stack of papers, and he was quick to follow the siren’s call of the boy god.

”Thank you,” Soul drawled, letting his hands slither their way up and around Kid’s shoulders. The weapon flashed his signature canine grin, although it faltered as Kid tipped his head to the side and stared up at him. His eyes, the color of gold and honey were glistening like a thousand suns, and Soul felt like he was about to turn pink from the heat of the rays.

Although he’ll never admit it aloud, Soul always thought that Kid was kind of pretty. For a boy, at least. Well, for a god. He sometimes forgot Kid was a god, and a death god at that. Growing up, the weapon always pictured deities of death to be kind of... ugly. His fascination with gothic architecture led to a further fascination of gothic paintings, such as _Satan Devouring His Son_ , or _Hell_ by Hieronymous. In both examples they illustrated hellish creatures as demonic and Lovecraftian in nature. Yet, never would he have thought that the late Lord Death’s son would share the same pristine beauty as a Grecian statue. He might as well have been carved from the same marble as all statues, for it matched his complexion and features.   
  


When they first met Soul was cold and hostile, Kid cordial but equally as distant. And yet, Soul was a little startled by the boy god’s angelic appearance, how he was a saint perched before a sinner. But as time went on, Soul noticed Kid had flaws that rivaled his seraphic aura. These cracks in the once perfect statue only caught more of Soul’s attention than before though, and it was at that point when Soul realized that he had begun to fall.   
  


The spool of thread that the weapon fell from was black as coal, but his blackened heart felt warmed by the palms of the pretty little god of death. However, he knew that Kid was much more deceiving than he appeared. After all, it was the reason why Soul was the thread in the scenario, and Kid was the one with the strings wrapped around his doll like, but mischievous fingers.   
  


“You came up here to help, not to mess around,” Kid sharply responded, but Soul could feel the way the god relaxed into his arms. He seemed to realized what he did and quickly slipped out of the other boy’s grasp, stepping aside to put space between the two of them. His face was a shade darker than it had been before.

Soul watched as Kid began rummaging through papers, the boy god’s brow straining as he peered through a thin valley opening between two paper canyons. “How long you been at this?” Soul asked.

Kid merely shrugged in response, yet his demeanor seemed to suggest that even he’d lost track of how long he’d been at this.   
  


Soul clicked his tongue and reached out to grab for Kid’s hands. They both hesitated, but Soul snapped out of it and flipped the meister’s hand over, letting his palm face towards the sky. A sparse row of paper cuts lined his fingers, already healing up faster than normal. When Soul glanced towards Kid’s other hand, he saw an identical pair of injuries, fresher with a thin streak of pinkish flesh inside the incisions.   
  


“I’m thinking it took awhile to even get the paper to cut you up to match,” Soul inquired. By the twitch of Kid’s fingers, it told the weapon everything he needed to know. 

“Let’s take a break,” Soul offered, rubbing his calloused fingers over the smooth skin on Kid’s knuckles. “It’s a Friday after all, you can get back to this stuff on Monday.”

Kid’s features seemed to twist as a frown crossed his lips. “No, Soul, don’t you see this stuff is all from _last_ Monday. Marie’s on maternity leave, and all the other teachers are already flooded with their own miscellaneous work. I need to finish this now.”

Soul couldn’t help the frown that also formed on his face. “Kid, you realize you’re still just.. you know, a kid. For the past two months you’ve been swamped all day every day with work, and you spend all your time cooped up in here. You don’t even go to your own home anymore!”

Something etched it’s way across the once dainty death God’s face. It reminded Soul of himself, the way he used to be.  
  


”I’ve been swamped with work because two months ago is when my father _died_!” Kid’s voice carried throughout the Death room, papers fluttering about as he yanked he hands out of Soul’s grip. “Do you realize how ironic that is? For the god of death to die?

“Just... please, I don’t want to blow up at you like this, can you just help me with this mess?”

Soul nodded, but it hadn’t fully registered in his head what had happened yet. The only indication that what happened was real came from the remedial assignments now strewn across the floor. Kid began to clean in silence, and he avoided every look that Soul threw at him. 

One thing Soul understood about Kid was that they were very much alike. They shared similar backgrounds and stories, but they also shared similar pains and struggles. He knew that Kid secretly wished to be close to his father, despite how often he pushed him away.

Soul asked about it once, and Kid just kind of brushed it off. But the weapon knew that it was an incredibly sensitive topic, especially since the wounds of his father’s death were still fresh and hadn’t even began to crystallize yet. It was like pouring salt onto a snail, watching how it would shrivel up and it’s eyes would gloss over. That night Soul couldn’t help but cry after seeing Kid so vulnerable, how hollow his expression was but how the pain culminated behind his eyes. They looked more like a murky brown that day than a sun kissed sky.  
  


Soul placed a stack of crumpled papers onto the table, nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He drew blood, but ignored the bitter taste as he strode over to Kid.   
  


“Do you wanna try going out some other night?” He asked, sliding a hand through the middle of a stack Kid held. He parted it, grabbing for the top half to place down onto the skull table.

Kid’s brow cinched again, this time it seemed in embarrassment. He tipped his chin upward however, letting his golden irises snake their way over and grab Soul’s attention. “Of course not, I’ve been waiting weeks for you to ask me out.”

Soul laughed, a rough and haughty laugh that shot lightning bolts down the meister’s spine. Kid, a newfound coyness laced in his gaze, placed down the papers he held and waltzed around the table, disappearing behind the labyrinth of assignment sheets. Soul peered around the papers the boy god went behind, but couldn’t see him anywhere.   
  


“Kid,” Soul called out, walking around the entirety of the table’s circumference. A breathy laugh, colder than ice, gently caressed the shell of his ear.

”I’m sorry for blowing up at you,” Kid replied, his bodiless voice carrying like an echo within Soul’s eardrum.   
  


“That’s okay,” Soul said. “I hope you realize how bipolar you are, though.”

”Bipolar?” Kid asked. Soul could see the boy god’s black suit and hair from between the slivers of space among the papers. The weapon was quick to make his way over to the other side, groaning when he didn’t see Kid anywhere.

”Yeah, just a bit.” Soul began to count off on his fingers, “You sounded mad at me when I first came in, and then you were calm, and then you blew up at me about not wanting to do work, and now you’re not doing work.”   
  


“I guess,” Kid replied, this time not in his usual silvery tone.

Soul saw him again, and he was quick to make his way around the table. But the meister was nowhere to be seen. “When I catch you, you’re done for.”

“Is that a threat?” Kid inquired. Soul felt the boy’s hands on his shoulders, on his arms, smoothing out his hair— but the god himself was nowhere to be found. 

Soul’s chest knotted when Kid grabbed for his hand, and it was then he could faintly see a wisp of black and white, the pale skin of the meister’s fingers entwining with his. He knew this was Kid trying to connect with him, his attempt at an apology suitable for Soul. The boy god was never one for physical affection, and especially not with his own death scythe. Well, perhaps that last bit wasn’t _entirely_ true.

Soul squeezed Kid’s hand, pulling the reaper forward and against his chest. A fully opaque Kid sprung back in response, but his fingers remained locked with the weapon’s. “You’ve gotten pretty good at that,” Soul said.

The reaper plucked his fingers against Soul’s skin, leaving faint crescent moon shaped marks on his taut knuckles. Soul didn’t mind much, but he often wondered if these ticks Kid had were new, or if they always existed and he just didn’t notice.   
  


“I suppose...” Kid sighed, somewhat defeated but somewhat in relief. “There’s no real threat out there right now, I’m sure taking a break would be good for me.”

Soul smiled, fanged teeth and all. Kid lifted the corners of his lips upward, yet his eyes didn’t seem to squint with the smile. His button nose didn’t move, and his brows remained flaccid. Deep down, the weapon felt disturbed by such a look, but said nothing about it. He was just glad to get his meister out of his father’s workplace. To release the boy from his godhood, at least for a moment.

Kid parted his lips to say something, but was briskly interrupted by a door slamming open at the end of the hall. He heard footsteps making a beeline towards the center of the room, quick to straighten up and let go of Soul’s hand.   
  


To Soul, it looked like he was suddenly carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But then he realized, that’s exactly what Kid was doing.   
  


The two of them turned to see who had entered the room, but they visually relaxed when they saw it was only Lord Death’s old partner, Spirit.

Kid would’ve actually been alright with seeing him, if it weren’t for the frazzled look on Spirit’s face. “What’s wrong?” Kid asked.

Spirit gazed behind him, where Stein was sauntering his way into the room. “Sorry to intrude,” Stein nonchalantly said, “but there seems to be a slight problem going on.”

”Well spit it out already,” Soul snapped, reaching for Kid’s hand behind the papers. He could feel it, yet it didn’t reach for his in return.   
  


Stein glared at the two of them, but sighed and crossed his arms. “Careful, Evans. You’re lucky to be Kid’s weapon, or else you’d be in detention right now for skipping class.”

”I’m not skipping, I’m helpin’ out—“ Kid snatched for Soul’s hand and yanked, the weapon losing his footing as he stumbled and fell to his knees. 

”Please continue,” Kid sighed. He gingerly softened his grip on the boy’s hand, their fingers barely connected together.

Spirit stepped forward, clearing a nasally sound from his throat. “We’ve detected what might be a madness wavelength... and it’s coming from inside the city itself.”


	2. Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always post new stories and never update them ever again like bro anyways imma try and at least make one more chapter of this before I fall off the face of the earth again 
> 
> Also sorry if some of this is choppy, I got new acrylics and they’re way too long for me to type with :(

_They forget that he belongs to the dead before he belongs to the living_ _._

* * *

  
Kid had almost forgotten what madness felt like.

It was always sort of lingering in the back of his mind, snaking it’s way around the concaves of his skull and feasting upon the wavering strength of his soul. However, it tended to dull into white noise whenever he distracted himself for long enough. It worked most of the time, which was great. Except for the times when it didn’t.

But Soul, he could _never_ forget what the madness felt like.

He could never escape the memories of the little demon’s grasp around his sanity, how it tore away bit by bit until all that was left was the hollowed out carcass of his former self. It had gotten easier for Soul to admit that he’d fallen victim to the darkness, but there were times when he felt helpless beyond belief. Where that madness was omnipotent, and had him spiraling out of control.

It was the worst when they were together.

The madness was kind of like a drug. Those fleeting, ephemeral moments of ecstasy where the world could be spinning in any direction and you wouldn’t care because you were floating on cloud nine. But suddenly you _had_ to care because you were going to lose Maka if you didn’t, or you were going to kill your best friend and leave him in the arms of sin if you stayed lost in the insanity for a moment longer.

Kid knew that his godhood didn’t mix well with Soul’s black blood, but it was almost tempting in a sense, to try and get close to the edge of madness. It only really happened during fights, but the few that they’d gone were enough to spur this temptation for the boy god.

Its why Kid found himself scrubbing his hands red raw that night. His fingers were chafed and the one pearly complexion of his skin was tainted a vibrant pink. He tried not to think too much about how it happened.  
  


_“We’ve detected what might be a madness wavelength... and it’s coming from inside the city itself.”_

It wasn’t like kishin eggs didn’t exist anymore. Even without the reign of Asura’s madness, people were able to stray off the path of good and collapse into the arms of evil. It was simply human nature, and it’s what helped establish balance in the first place.   
  


And yet despite it all, to find a highly saturated source of madness pooling from within Death City was certainly odd, since the last one was eradicated off the face of the earth.   
  


_“Kid and I’ll go check it out.”_

Of course Soul would instantaneously volunteer his aid, even when he was giving it to someone like Stein. That’s just who he was, and it was part of the reason why Kid liked him in the first place. Just like Kid however, Soul could feel the pull of each other’s madness leeching off one another. Yet he wasn’t enchanted by it like the boy god was. It scared him to have this unnerving desire for darkness, because it laid as a constant reminder of the little demon once perched upon his shoulder.

Kid eventually dried off his hands and collapsed against the ivory wall behind him, gradually sliding down until his feet hit the end of his sink. A lavish mirror coated in golden decor reflected his distressed state, illustrating the ruffle of his shirt and the tousle of his hair. He refused to look up from the ground for the longest time, but when he did he could see these things and more; from the waver in his shoulders to the inky stripes dribbling from his lips.

_”Stein overheard the kids discussing a party tonight, and it seems the madness’s activity is already quite fervent in the surrounding radius.”_

So many thoughts were going through Kid’s head at that moment, to the point where he felt like he was about to start spiraling out of control. He clawed at his own flesh, trying to pick off the stripes as if they were scabs. He fussed and rubbed at his chin and bit his lips until skin peeled, but nothing could erase the markings nor the sensation he felt in his veins.

It came in tremors, pulsating within his arteries and flooding his blood like adrenaline. When he splashed water onto his face, the movements within his muscles caused spasms of pure madness to litter his blood vessels.  
  


Oh, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was because of _Soul_.

“Hey, Kid?” He heard through the bathroom door. “I think I’m gonna leave now, Liz and Patty are kinda interrogating me.”

”O-Okay,” Kid responded, cursing at the abrupt quiver in his voice.

He could tell that Soul hesitated before leaving, but Kid couldn’t bother to care how far the weapon got before screaming into the palm of his hands. He needed an outlet of some kind, any to throw the madness into before it became too much. He needed to hit something, maybe even someone. He needed to attack something, tear it apart limb from limb like Noah had once done to him. He needed literally anything to help distract him from the madness.

He needed to get rid of the lines. 


	3. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dang ty for all the people who comment and give a kudos I deadass thought that like no one would give a shit about this ship :’)

_They forget he comes from godhood before boyhood_

* * *

”I’m gonna go out on a limb and say this isn’t what you exactly bargained for.”

Kid glanced over at the weapon, a scoff building in the back of his throat. He swallowed it down, although it proved difficult not to release at least a _single_ snarky noise or comment.   
  


“Oh, if you mean when you insisted we could spend the last waning moments of a Friday afternoon together without the company of half the town’s teenage population bustling around us, then yes, this isn’t particularly what I had bargained for.”

Soul didn’t hesitate to release a bark of a laugh, his signature grin stretching back to form a crescent moon smile. It mirrored that of the blood stained satellite observing them from the sky.   
  


“You’re funny,” he responded, one part sarcastic and another part charismatic.   
  


Kid rolled his eyes, although he didn’t particularly mind Soul’s attitude. “So Stein believes there’s something bustling around here?”  
  


Soul shrugged. ”That’s what he said.”   
  


Kid nodded slowly, processing all the information at once. He mulled over details Stein procured for them, trivial bits like the time the party commenced or what it was for. He scanned the scene, eyes drowning in a sea of rowdy teenagers, all so much more normal than him and Soul would ever be. They didn’t have a care in the world, except for maybe crushes and late assignments. Meanwhile, the boy god felt like he had to grasp onto things like crushes and late assignments just to retain his sanity.

Soul peered down, noticing how Kid— despite being lost in thought— picked at his paper cut wounds. He scratched at them with his well manicured nails, leaving behind streaks of pink flushed flesh. On one of them his nail was strong enough to break the skin, and a trickle of blood oozed from the laceration. Blood stained fingertips traced over to his other hand, where he cut into the identical lesion until more liquid iron seeped out.

Soul felt weird and his arms felt itchy watching, but it was as if he were mesmerized. As if, a part of him were intrigued. A chill reverberated in fear down his spine. 

”Kid,” he finally said, his hands falling onto the boy god’s. Soul’s fingers, warmer and darker in tone with a faint kiss of pink, wrapped around their much paler and doll-like counterparts.   
  


Kid blinked a couple times and turned to gaze at Soul, golden suns for eyes brimming with equanimity despite the newly brandished cuts. He didn’t even seem to notice them as he wrapped his pinky around Soul’s. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I was just thinking.”

”Nah, you’re good,” Soul replied in assurance, although he was still highly concerned about Kid’s standoffish movements from before. He peered over the boy’s shoulder and past the conglomeration of teenagers causing anarchy to some poor neighbor’s front yard. “You know, I can see your house from here.”

”What?” Kid asked in genuine amazement. His eyes followed to where Soul pointed, and there it was, the skull fashioned gorgons looming atop his manor glared back at him from off in the distance. Liz and Patty were most likely there right now, asleep or more plausibly contemplating a quick trip to this hellscape of a gathering.   
  


The air grew chilly, and Soul felt goosebumps riddling his skin under the fabric of his hoodie. As he peered down at the boy god, he saw the way Kid hunched his shoulders and breathed out foggy, dove colored air.   
  


“Need a jacket?” Soul asked.

Kid shifted his gaze and let his eyes rake up and down the weapon. A lighthearted scoff flew out from his lips. “I didn’t think you were _this_ cheesy.”

  
“Yeah, yeah,” Soul laughed— although not so sure what he found so funny—, directing Kid inside with him. They hung close to the walls of the building, soaking up the ivory plastering as they hugged cream colored corners. The boy god would occasionally glance up at Soul, just to see his reaction to this place. 

Kid wondered if Soul would’ve been attracted to this type of environment if he wasn’t a student at the Academy. Sometimes, Kid wondered how his friends would’ve been if they were normal, or at the very least never learned about their meister-weapon abilities. He seldom fully mulled on the topic, rather a brief thought that flickered and faded just as quickly as it appeared. And yet, Kid couldn’t help but feel as though this particular scene _was_ what Soul would’ve wanted.

Kids born into posh, prim, and plentiful settings like him and the weapon often found themselves driven to the rowdy lifestyle, whether they acknowledged it or not. And even if they didn’t want to be in these types of situations, they still went to them because what else was a well off teenager supposed to do with their life other than partake in kegs and pool parties?

To be fair, Kid never found himself magnetized by the raucous and strident deliverance of such festivities. It was just how he was wired; maybe because of how his personality was, or perhaps it was because his father had never been the type for not so lavish and rave style events. Or maybe he was just not human enough to enjoy the simple, exhilarating things in life.

But that didn’t mean no one else he knew wasn’t. Soul, as both unexpected and as expected as can be, was the most common one the boy god assumed would like these rich kid parties. It was unexpected because his weapon was always a standoffish figure, even when he was maturing with a totally different partner and being totally different Soul. However, it almost felt expected, simply because that’s just how Kid saw Soul.

Something unexpected and expected all at once.

And based on the look painted across his face, Kid could perfectly pinpoint which of the two his partner had been experiencing— and it wasn’t what the reaper had been expecting at all. 


End file.
